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Absalom and Achitophel admiration Andrew Marvell ballads beauty Ben Jonson biography Burns Byron called century character Charles Lamb charm Chaucer Coleridge Cowley Cowper critics death delight died doubt Dryden Dunciad edition English poets essay expression eyes Faerie Queene fame fancy father faults feeling gained genius Grasmere happy heart Herrick Homer honour imagination John Keble Jonson judgment Keats Keble L’Allegro labour language letters lines literary literature live Lord Lord Byron Lycidas lyric Milton mind moral nature never noble o'er Paradise Lost passages passion perhaps pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's praise prose published rhyme Samuel Johnson satire Scott Shakespeare Shelley song sonnets Southey Spenser spirit stanzas Stopford Brooke story student style sweet thee Thomson thou thought tion true verse volume words Wordsworth worthy writes written wrote young readers youth
Page 316 - Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife ! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.
Page 24 - Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide ; To lose good days that might be better spent ; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; To feed on hope ; to pine with fear and sorrow ; To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Page 188 - Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Page 92 - They are all gone into the world of light ! And I alone sit lingering here ; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest, After the sun's remove.
Page 368 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for Heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint...
Page 236 - When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Page 138 - Farewell, happy fields, Where joy for ever dwells ; hail horrors, hail Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell Receive thy new possessor ; one who brings A mind not to be changed by place, or time.
Page 105 - A lily of a day, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall, and die that night; It was the plant, and flower of light. In small proportions, we just beauties see: And in short measures, life may perfect be.
Page 261 - I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love ! Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past ; Thy image at our last embrace ; Ah ! little thought we 'twas our last ! Ayr gurgling kissed his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thickening, green ; The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twined amorous round the raptured scene.